


Fire and Ice

by muses_circle



Series: We All Fall series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mentions of Death, Post-Episode: s03e02 The Kids Are Alright, We All Fall (Down) series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle
Summary: But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo know that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.





	Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I own the girl, and all of her faults. The summary comes from the poem "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost. This takes place right after 3.02 "The Kids Are Alright".

Sam collapsed onto his unmade bed and stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. What he’d just heard – that everyone his mother ever knew was dead, that Ruby, the ‘hunter’ helping him was really a demon, that she could help him save Dean – made Sam’s head swim. He shut his eyes against the barrage of emotions that surged through him, threatening to overtake him. His mother. Every life she’d touched – her family and friends, strangers and co-workers – was gone. Exterminated like bugs.  
  
Why the hell would a demon go to so much trouble to wipe out the influence of a mother he never even knew? He shuddered against the icy wind that blew inside of him.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Sam reached for his cell phone and held above him to look at the LCD screen. He scrolled through his list of contacts until he found Emma Boudreaux’s number. Though it had only been a couple weeks since they parted, he and Emma had kept in contact via text message and email. He paused for a moment and gazed at her phone number. The flutter of anticipation was a welcome relief to the coldness that had seeped into his veins: the thought of her rich voice was a flame in the darkness.  
  
Dean wasn’t around, probably still trying to come on to “Gumby Girl”, and Sam had no idea how to start telling his brother things he knew Dean didn’t want to hear. A demon offered to help Sam, one that professed to know all kinds of things about the Winchester family. Dean wouldn’t give this knowledge a warm reception, not after all they had been through with Emma.  
  
His finger hovered a moment before pressing the ‘send’ button. Sam wanted to talk to Emma, overcome with the need to tell her. His soul felt heavy with the burden of the secrets he was keeping. Twinges of guilt pricked his mind. Was searching for a confidant outside the family circle wise?  
  
Emma answered the phone on the second ring, which prevented any second thoughts. “Hey, Sam,” she said, and Sam felt the warmth of her smile through the phone. Excitement vibrated through him, and the horror of the previous moments receded into the background.  
  
“Emma. How are you?”  
  
“I’m fine, Sam. How are you?”  
  
 _Panicked. Depressed. Angry. Where do I begin?_ “Just fine,” he said. “Wanted to see how things were going.”  
  
“Fine. Same as always.”  
  
There was an awkward silence. Sam shift uncomfortably on the bed, at a loss for words. _Maybe calling her was a bad idea_ , he thought.   
  
“So is Dean in the room with you? Making faces at you for being all awkward on the phone?”  
  
Sam heard her teasing tone and smiled. “Emma, that’s not funny,” he joked and sat up. He moved so his back rested against the headboard.  
  
“Well, you’re the one callin’ me, _cher_ , and we’re walking around in circles here. What’s up?”  
  
He swallowed. “We’re in . . . Indiana.”  
  
Silence on the other end. “What’s wrong, Sam? You sound . . .” Emma’s worried voice burned with the warmth of a wintertime fire in his mind. Perhaps there really _was_ someone else in this crap-hole of a world who cared about his welfare.  
  
“I think I’m going to need your Google brain.”  
  
Another pause on the other end. Sam held his breath. “Sure, what can I do to help?” she asked.  
  
“Need you to start searching for a demon.”  
  
“A –”  
  
“Demon, yeah,” Sam said. “I just found out that . . . my mom . . . all her friends and family. They’re . . . gone.”  
  
“What?” Emma asked, the worry replaced with panic. “What do you mean, they’re gone?”  
  
“This demon told me to do research on my mom’s friends, my relatives on her side. And . . . they’re all dead. Gone.” Sam heard the mournful note in his voice. His shoulders slumped. He still couldn’t believe it.  
  
“A . . . demon did that?” she whispered.  
  
Sam let out a frustrated breath and closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was burden Emma with his unique set of problems. Never mind that sharing this with someone other than Dean had been the whole point of the call. “I shouldn’t have called,” he blurted out. “Look, I just . . . take care, okay? You might not hear from me for awhile.”  
  
He was about to disconnect the call when he heard Emma’s voice turn angry. “Sam, if you hang up on me, so help me God I’m getting on my broomstick and flying up there to kick your ass!”  
  
Surprised laughter rumbled in his chest. “What the –”  
  
“You are not going to spill your guts and then leave me hanging! I want to help! Tell me what’s going on.”  
  
He was surprised by the tenor of her voice, thick with anger and anxiety. The image of her lingered in his mind – beautiful in her anger, dark eyes flashing with emotion – and he began to understand maybe his reticence wasn’t what she needed “Emma, I . . .” he tried to find the words, but they stuck in his throat.  
  
“Don’t you dare hang up on me,” she whispered, and he swore he heard tears in her voice. “I’ve been worried about you. Both of you . . . and yeah, y’all told me not to, but I can’t help it.”  
  
She fell silent, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sam heard her breathing softly on the other end: it was ragged, like she was fighting some inward emotional battle. And in that moment, Sam knew what she was trying to say: Emma missed him. It was in her voice when she spoke, the feeling pouring through the line. This wasn’t something easily communicated through electronic means.  
  
Sam smiled a little and felt his heart warmed by the thought. The coldness had left, and in its place came a strong sensation of fortitude. Perhaps calling her had been the right decision, after all.  
  
“Okay,” he said with a ghost of a smile on his face. “I’ll share, but understand that I haven’t told Dean yet.”


End file.
